The Bell That Never Rings
by gossamer moonglow
Summary: How can Abby not want Tim? Is it possible?


Title: The bell that never rings  
>Characters: Tim &amp; Abby<br>Rate: FR 7  
>Genre: general, <strong>angst<strong> (lot's of it, I think), character study  
>Word count: 1100 (including the lyrics) 1048 (without the lyrics). Does it make it a song fic?<p>

_**The bell that never rings**_

It was wistful thinking some cynics might have said and damn if they weren't right. It was still too early for the end but obviously only for him. She wasn't at her place waiting for him like she had done the previous two months. It was too soon. And certainly not enough.

He hoped for more. He wished for mere. But as always he wouldn't get his wish granted. He knew from the beginning it was not something to put his heart on. And still he had done exactly that. And now he was standing just outside of her apartment waiting… for what?

Nothing! There was nothing for him really.

As always.

Tony had been right. He hadn't been the right man for Abby… or maybe Abby wasn't the right woman for him.

But there had been something, of that he was certain. There was a spark, an instant connecting, a feelingr that would always bring a smile to his lips.

There she was. With her heavy boots, the ridiculously short skirt his Mom was going to have a heart attack in case she'd ever met the lab tech. But she wouldn't; not now not ever. Because Abby wasn't like that. She wasn't meeting parents, she wasn't going to commit. Not to him at least.

He wondered what he felt every time Abby was looking up at Gibbs, that huge, bright smile, the sweet kisses… it wasn't jealousy, but something close enough. It was something that made that flutter in his stomach sprout.

And yes, it wasn't going to last.

It wasn't love! Was it?

'Hey McGee, what are you doing here?' She asked and the smile is just as bright, just as beautiful. The umbrella made the dark haired woman a modern, goth Mary Poppins, but Tim wondered if he could even be Bert.

Then again why not? The dark of the smoke it would probably fit him just fine. Something inside him wanted to snap and start singing about chimneys…. And it's so cold that a fire place seemed welcoming in more ways than one.

Abby was out attempting to enjoy her evening listening to her favourite music, drinking her favourite drinks, talking to her favourite friends…and all she could think was her Timmy.

Tim was dangerous. To her. Even if he didn't know. She did, and that was enough. She had to do something. In nights like this she should be carefree and well… Abby.

And she wasn't! She hadn't been.

She left early. Too tired to have fun. Too Tim-less to enjoy. Dangerous. Hundreds, thousands, millions little red lights lit inside Abby's multitasking brain.

Dangerous. And scary.

She walked home, don't wanting to call for a taxi. She couldn't find it inside her to be afraid of the night because her mind had no free place that wasn't inhabited by Timmy.

Red lights. Lightning and blanking out and lighting again. Danger.

The stars in the sky were hidden behind the city's building and Abby was who she was. Different. Whole. She didn't need anyone. She didn't want to need anyone.

So when she found herself needing she had to stop it before it would be too late.

Tim. Standing outside her place. Waiting for her. The smile was instantaneous and spontaneous. And came from inside; the same place that's beating frantically when her eyes looked upon him.

Dangerous.

Scary. Terrifying really. But oh so good. And that was the worst part. She had to do something.

'Hey McGee, what are you doing here?' And he's so fitting against the wall, tall and childlike at the same time. Strong and valuable. Affectionate and vulnerable. Seeing him she felt protected and motherly.

Dangerous. Scary.

It couldn't work. Not between the two of them.

'I was wondering…' He said and Abby knew what he was wondering because she had been wondering the exact same thing. And she knew it's not going to work.

Not between her and Tim. Too different. She smiled. The difference wasn't the reason. The reason was she didn't want to change. She didn't want to adapt. She had to lose him and that part of her heart because she had to keep true to who she had become over the years.

Tim knew the moment her eyes lost their brightness.

Deep down, he had known from before. He had just let himself hope.

Stupid, heart wrenching hope!

He didn't want to listen to the words and she didn't want to utter them.

But they both knew. And agreed.

_The not knowing is easy  
>And the suspecting, that's okay<br>Just don't tell me for certain  
>That our love's gone away<em>

So she didn't say anything and he didn't stand to listen. They had come to an understanding, an agreement of sorts.

It was OK. He could go back to his writing and playing and she could go back to hero worshipping Gibbs. That was safe. Gibbs didn't have that kind of power over her or the will to make her want to change.

Something or someone bled that night. They both took a shovel and buried what shouldn't have lived in the first place. Buried or not, it lived though… And they both knew.

He was not good with shovels. Never had been. She was better. She made it work. She buried it somewhere only she could find it when the nights were lonely and the days were dark. She had a great _map_and she could find it any time. When she needed him and when he needed her. Other than that she could pretend. She could see and not interfere.

Some days it would be worse. It would be the days she needed him so much that she had to be cruel; push him away, make his stop care.

In the end, all she could see was Tim's pained eyes and all she could feel was the bitter taste of betrayal.

But she would be safe. She would still be Abby.

_And hey, as our love floats away  
>Over the hills on a seagull's wing<br>Our ideas will I kiss in a playground  
>Now I'm waiting for the bell that never rings<em>

'Goodnight Abs.' The night walk to his car would make him good. It was wise thinking on his part leaving his car a little away.

'Sweet dreams, Timmy.' _**Dream of me **_she wanted to say, but she had lost the right.

Wrong, wrong, the lights were screaming.

But not as dangerous any more!

She hadn't lost herself. Maybe, just maybe a part of her heart. Buried. But easily found. If only from her.

End

_Lyrics: The not knowing by Tindersticks._


End file.
